


If only we could forget

by BrilliantLight



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Billford(aftermath), Family Fluff, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantLight/pseuds/BrilliantLight
Summary: In the aftermath of Weirdmageddon, Ford needs a pick-me-up... and therapy... and help... Luckily for him he has a family he can talk to about stuff like this... Right? If there was a group of individuals who would understand his... questionable relationship with our (least) favorite dream demon, it'd be his family... Right?
Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines & Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 19
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

Black fingers laced themselves in his hair, pulling his head up and forcing him to look at the creature who was tormenting him.

Bill was staring at him, a look in his eye that Ford was completely uncomfortable with. Bill's eye was hungry, his hands possessive, his body close to Ford. So close... so, so, so... close... Close enough that Ford felt Bill's eyelashes brush against his face when Bill blinked.

He couldn't help but shudder when another hand of Bill's caressed his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined that none of this would affect his decision. He would not give Bill any satisfaction. Not with the dome, not with his physical response. If he didn't know better, he'd say he could feel Bill breathe on him, it was a circle on the edges of his face, which made sense since Bill's eye doubled as his mouth... and he didn't have a nose... Wait. Was his eye getting closer to Ford's mouth?

Pressing his lips together tightly Ford tried to turn his face away from his tormentor, but the hand on his chin prevented that from happening. Bill chuckled, seeming to come from every side of Ford. This was bad. This was bad. Ford was an idiot. Stan was right... Oh, how right Stan had been... Ford should have left the paranormal alone... He wished he had never heard of Gravity falls.

He waited for the kiss that never came. He felt a third hand start to rub circles into his shoulders, and tried to flinch out of its reach. Bill was chuckling again, and Ford almost wanted to look at him. Almost.

"You know Sixer, if this was thirty years ago you'd have been eating this up." Bill said, the hand in Ford's hair beginning to massage his scalp. Ford suppressed a whimper and squeezed his eyes and lips tighter together. A fourth hand reached Ford's back and the man completely froze. This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening... This wasn't... This couldn't...

Just before Bill could go too far a loud noise started to blare around them. It was loud, repetitive, high-pitched, and, if Ford did say so himself, sounded almost exactly like that infernal alarm clock Stan had got him when they were on the Stan O' War... Wait...

Ford's eyes flew open.

This time, instead of being met with Bill's eye, way too close to him for comfort, he was met with the wooden ceiling of the Shack. He let out a shaky sigh of relief before slamming his right hand down on the rectangular alarm clock resting on his side table.

His chest rose and fell in a fast pace, his blood pressure steadily creeping up. Axolotl he could still feel Bill's hands. They were everywhere... Oh, Axolotl help him... Pushing himself up on his elbows he stared at the other end of his room. His ex-private study had been turned into his bedroom after his old one had been claimed by Soos' Abuelita, but it still held all of his non-Bill research papers.

The sight of his room helped calm him down a bit, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. A rush of blood went to his cheeks. The feeling of the imaginary hands was growing fainter, but the memory of the dream still pounded in his mind. It was a dream... Just a dream... Just a dream... By why did it feel so freakin' real?

Because it was real. Once upon a time.

Slipping out of bed, not bothering to make it or even change, Ford left his room, rubbing his sweater-covered arms and trying to erase the memory of Bill's touch (however imaginary) from them, to little avail.

He rode the elevator up to the main floor, and stepped into a gift shop that was covered in streamers. Oh right... the kids... Ford's cheeks burned even more scarlet at the thought of his niece or nephew finding out about his dream.

He had no idea what their reaction would be. Probably disgust, shame, and embarrassment for being related to such a freak who would let someone like that anyone near them. Fear, and anger (especially from Dipper) would also be mixed in that. He knew what Stan would do, ridicule would definitely be in his future.

So he formulated a plan to drink his sorrows away with a large pot of coffee. Stepping into the 'Employees only' area he quickly made his way to the kitchen, still trying to ignore the pink doilies scattered through _his_ living room.

The door to the kitchen swung open without the squeak he had gotten used to the last summer. Soos had really fixed the Shack up well, Ford was really sort of proud of his friend/nephew thingie. The kitchen had been touched up (why was Soos so much better at taking care of Ford's house than both Stan _and_ Ford?) and Ford had half gotten across the room before he noticed its other occupant. 

Sitting at the kitchen table was Mabel, a stuffed tiger in one arm, and a glass of Mabel-juice in her other hand. Ford froze, staring at his thirteen-year-old niece. His blush returned. Speak of the devil... Ugh... Ford, you're making this awkward. It's just the girl whose brother you tried to steal from her... Yeah... 

"Greetings Grunkle Ford," she said quietly, staring at him with a skeptical gaze (could she read his thoughts? The image of Bill, running his hands through his hair, down his spine, on his... No! Stop that!). He flushed further, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh... Yes... Hello Mabel... Good morning." He responded as Mabel watched him questioningly. 

The girl waved a hand at an already full pot of coffee. "I knew you'd be up soon, so I made some coffee for you. Really dark! Like your soul!" If Ford had had something in his mouth he would have spat it out, but since the only thing that he had eaten had been air he simply choked. Mabel laughed a bit, smiling at him. "Just kidding... Or am I?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and Ford sighed in relief. 

"Good. I thought you might have stumbled upon my secret." he said, pulling the largest white mug out of the cabinet. Mabel smiled wider, "Oh no Grunkle Ford, I know all your secrets. _All of_ _them._ " She wiggled her fingers at him, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Please be lying... Please...

Seeing how white his face grew the girl dropped the act almost instantly. "No way. You _do_ have a secret!" she said in a disbelieving tone. "Grunkle Ford... Do you have a _girlfriend_?" Shaking his head Ford poured some coffee into his mug. Mabel humphed. "That would have been perfect." she said in a grumpy voice, and Ford couldn't help but chuckle at her.

And his chuckle sounded exactly like Bill's.

He blanched again. He could feel a hand laced in his hair, pulling it to an almost painful degree. He could feel how difficult it was to keep his lips sealed. Oh please... Not in front of Mabel... Please...

"Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?" A new hand was touching him, not as warm as Bill's, and not with the intention to... to... to do whatever Bill had done to Ford. This hand was small, and gripping his own hand completely platonically. He looked down at Mabel, love filling his eyes. "Yes. I'm fine Mabel. Just had a nightmare." He was lucky Mabel was holding the hand that wasn't wrapped around his cup or he would have slapped it over his mouth. He had _not_ meant to say that.

The look Mabel gave him held no humor in it anymore. Suddenly she looked way older than the girl Ford had shaken hands with nearly a year ago. "Oh Grunkle Ford..." she breathed, grabbing his arm, gently as to not spill his coffee, or to not scare him with sudden movements. "I'm so sorry. I know what those are like. Do you want to talk about it?" She didn't press him when he silently shook his head again. "Okay," she said, giving his arm one last squeeze. "Let me know if you ever do. I know what those are like."

Please don't cry... Please don't cry... At this point, Ford wasn't sure if he was thinking it for Mabel, or himself. 


	2. Chapter 2

_His hands were chained behind his back. The collar at his neck pressed against his tender skin, making it difficult to breathe. Bill was in front of him again, like he always was. Bill held a martini glass in his hand and a humored expression on what could be considered his 'face'._

_Ford hated it. Ford hated every bit of it._

_"I'll never give you the equation." He spat, glaring at the triangular demon in front of him. Bill sighed, his tone holding a semblance of sadness. But that was impossible, Bill didn't have emotions like that. All he knew was pain. Or at least that was what he wanted Ford to think. In Bill's free hand the end of the blue chains attached to Ford's wrists appeared. Bill watched him with pity in his eye and snapped his fingers over the chains._

_Ford's arms instantly flew up, the chain now attached to the ceiling. He suddenly was keenly aware of how Bill's eye was trailing over his body. Looking him up and down, and up, and down..._

_Bill's recently freed hand reached out and trailed a finger down Ford's cheek, making the man shiver. This wasn't real. This wasn't happening... No... Please! Not again! "Maybe not now..." the triangle said, swirling his glass with one hand and caressing Ford with the other. "But soon Fordsie, you'll tell me everything. You can't help yourself." Ford repressed a whimper, forcing himself to stare forward blankly._

_"For weirdness sakes Ford, you're so tense..." Bill said, sprouting a new hand in a flash and starting to rub circles into his shoulders. "You should really learn," he leaned forward, his time-punch-scented breath causing Ford to wrinkle his nose and gasp at the same time. "How to be flexible." Ford squeezed his eyes shut as a fourth hand started to tip-toe down his spine. This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening..._

_A circle of huffed air blew against Ford's hair. "Oh, but it is Fordsie... I'm here, with you. This can all end... if you tell me that pesky little equation..." Bill's voice was smooth, caring, and (dare Ford say it?) seductive. Another hand began to grab his hair, tilting his face towards Bill. This couldn't... No! No... No... No... Ford could feel his lips quivering. This was real... but please... Let this just stop... Just abandon your 'morality' and tell Bill..._

_No. He couldn't do that to... to... to... to Dipper... to Mabel... to Stan... to Dipper... Oh Dipper he's so sorry he's not-_

"Great uncle Ford? Grunkle Ford! Wake up!" 

* * *

Ford's eyes snapped open. His hands were shaking, trapped under his head, which was resting on his desk. Breathing heavily he looked around, tingles from Bill still lingering on his person. Where was he? Had Dipper come to rescue him? Where was Bill? Wait. 

"Dipper?" he asked, sounding groggy as he lifted his head. His hands weren't shackled anymore, and his neck didn't hurt. Where was... Was this his private study? 

The memories of the past year came crashing down on him. He wasn't in the Fearamid with an insane triangle willing to do anything to get the equation, he was in his home, spending the summer with is family. He had been rescued, he had killed Bill, he had traveled all around the arctic with Stan on the boat of their dreams. He was safe... Oh how good it felt to be able to think that. 

In front of him was his young nephew, staring at him with brown eyes filled with fear and concern. Like he should. Fear should be the normal reaction to seeing Ford. But he wasn't used to Dipper of all people looking at him like that. He needed to be strong for his young nephew. Dipper was barely a teenager! He shouldn't be worrying about Ford. 

"Great uncle Ford, you were... You were having a nightmare." Dipper said, shame washing over his face. "You were talking in your sleep." Ford felt all the blood drain from his face. Dipper shifted nervously. "I see..." Ford said, trying to maintain his cool composure. "And... Uh... What was I saying?" Dipper gulped, rubbing his arm and avoiding eye contact with his uncle. "Well... you were mostly saying 'No' over and over again." Ford nodded, looking down at his hands. Hands. He could vaguely feel Bill's hands on him. "Anything else troubling?" He mustered up the courage to say. Dipper shook his head, "Just 'No' and 'This isn't happening'. I think you were trying to wake yourself up." 

Ford couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. There was truth in Dipper's eyes, and Ford trusted that he was really repeating the extent of what Ford had said. "I must have." Ford said, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for waking me up Dipper. Now is there anything I can help you with my boy?" His use of his pet name for Dipper made Ford feel slightly sick. How could he move on from a dream like that (feeling like he did) to talking to Dipper like it was old times? 

Dipper nodded, his eyes still holding a bit of worry, but that was lost when Dipper said, "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to play some DD& more D... But if you're not up for it..." Ford blinked at him for a second, shook his head jerkily, then said, "I would love to Mason." Dipper blushed a tiny bit, then said, "Great! Thank you so much great- Uh... Grunkle Ford!" 

The boy spun around, stole one last glance at Ford, then dashed out of the room to grab the game. 

Ford watched his nephew disappear, then slumped down in his chair. Swallowing deeply he ran a hand down his face. What was wrong with him? This was his second Bill dream in less than a week! He had done his best to repress those memories. He was now Ford Pines, Grunkle, sailor, brother, friend... Not Stanford Pines, ex-possessed interdimensional outlaw. He shouldn't be having dreams like this... 

This was bad. Ford was bad. He definitely shouldn't be worrying Dipper or Mabel about stuff like this. Yet somehow he had succeeded in doing that without even breaking the news to Stanley. Sure Stan knew he had nightmares, but he didn't know what they were about, and he definitely hadn't been present for them. 

Ford swore to himself right there that he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe from these memories. He'd seal them up, insist that no one was around him when he slept, and tell them all to disregard anything that happened. There was absolutely no reason to tell them about his time in the Fearamid. When Bill had gotten close to sleep-

No. Ford wasn't going to think about that. His cheeks burned as he watched the door patiently, hoping that Dipper came only when he regained control of himself. For now he was the Author that had hung out with a boy and nerded out over their shared love of a game. He was innocent Ford Pines, not that... thing that Bill had played with. 

No one needed to know.


	3. Chapter 3

_Stanley knelt in front of him, his face tilted up towards Ford, eyes shut and a dazed stupor settling over his face rather than his usual animated expression. Ford felt his hands shaking. He looked down at them and saw the memory ray sitting in them, cold to the touch. Realizing what he had to do he lifted to gun up and pointed it directly at his brother's face._

_Shoving down memories and a choked sob Ford squeezed his eyes shut at the same time to pulled the trigger. He could almost hear Stan's scream as the ray met his mind at full force, obliterating any scrap of Stanley Pines from Ford's brother's mind. In his mind he heard a faint whisper that this now made Ford a murderer. He had committed fratricide. There was little he could do but his eyes shut even after he dropped the gun, hoping that tears weren't building up in them._

_He only opened them again when he felt two strong hands shove his shoulders, and he was knocked to the ground on his back. Above him he saw the face of his brother, disheveled and looking almost exactly like Ford. Ford let out a yelp as one of Stan's hands flew out and wrapped around his throat, cutting off his breathing. Ford was stunned for another moment, before raising his hands and wrapping them around Stan's strong hand pressed firmly around his windpipe._

_The most terrifying thing about the situation was Stan's eyes. They were a sickly yellow, and the pupils were slits, like a snake's, and... Bill..._

_"Did you really think that would kill me?" Bill/Stan asked, using Stan's free hand to pry Ford's off of the one on his neck. "You just created an empty vessel for me." A sickening smile sneaked onto his face as Ford's eyes widened. "Did you think you could really escape me Sixer? No. You won't. You never will." With a horrible realization, Ford suddenly knew that he was going to die. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't do anything besides watch as Bill used his brother's face to sneer at him. There was no escape... No escape... Just Bill... Bill... Bill..._

_Bill leaned over Ford and hissed into his ear, "You belong to_ ME _Stanford Pines." Ford did his best to gulp, trying to get his hands back to his throat, to get Bill off of him, to get him out of his brother's body. Oh Stan... Oh Stan..._

_"S- Sor- Sorry... I'm sorry..." he spluttered out, eyes brimming with tears. Bill smiled down at him, pressing Ford's hands down on his stomach and saying, "You should be. You tried to get away... Now..."_

_The second his lips touched Ford's ear Ford shivered. He couldn't breathe, he had Bill, in Stan's body, on top of him, he was pinned to the floor, Dipper and Mabel were watching all of this. Oh Axolotl, Dipper and Mabel were watching this! What could possibly be going through their heads..._

_As if on cue a shout came from Mabel. Sweet, precious, caring, always understanding Mabel. A shout of fear, and disgust. "Grunkle Ford! What are you letting him do to you?!" she asked, stepping up next to Stan. Her eyes looked dead as she stared at him, her brown eyes holding almost no emotion. No emotion except... Shame. She was ashamed of him.  
_

_"Mabel-" he gasped out as Bill lifted his head up away from him. "Mabel I'm- I-"_

_Bill/Stan let out a cold laugh, sounding like a mixture of their voices. "How right you are Shooting Star! What_ are _you letting me do to you?" He blinked Stan's eyes innocently, like he wasn't strangling Ford to death. Ford squeezed his eyes, real tears gathering in his eyes as he heard a disgusted sound come from both Dipper and Mabel. Bill moved his head down again, hovering Stan's face just above Ford's, "How upset they are, now that they know what type of person you are."_

_Did Ford want this? Was this really to be his fate? Dying at the hands of Bill, staring up into his brother's face? There was a hungry look in Bill's eyes, and Ford felt his conscience give out right as the face of Stan... Oh Stan Ford was so sorry... So so so so so so so sorry. Stan's face... it came closer..._

* * *

After a moment of pure darkness Ford's eyes snapped open. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife? If so then why did it smell so much like cheap cologne and sweat? There was something soft lying on his arms, placed there delicately. He realized with a start that he was lying in a bed, in a dark room, a blanket draped over him. He blanched instantly. Bill hadn't killed him. He was in some new part of the Fearamid. Bill was going... Oh Axolotl. This was his life now, being Bill's pet and plaything...

"Sixer?" 

Instantly he froze. Only Bill called him that. His breath grew hitched and shaky as he watched the face of his brother come into view. This was bad... This was so bad... Why did Bill have to do this? With Stan's body too? Please just go back to being a triangle! Ford had just started repairing his relationship with Stan, he couldn't have him do... whatever Bill had planned for him. 

"Just go back..." Ford hissed, feeling pathetic. He coughed slightly, and tried not to do it again when Stan grew a confused expression. What was there to not understand? Bill claimed to be omnipotent, why couldn't he understand a simple statement from Ford? Oh Axolotl he was coming closer... he's reaching his hand out... He's... He's...

He watched silently, remorsefully as Stan placed a hand on his shoulder. Tension ran through his body and he stiffened immediately. "Stanford," Stan said, and... Bill was using his voice... "Ford. Are you okay? You weren't breathing there for a minute." Ford shivered, trying not to think of the hand pressed against his shoulder. "Please..." he whispered, then everything snapped into place once again. 

The reason Stan was using his voice? Well, it was _Stan_ not Bill. He cared about Ford because he cared about Ford. He wasn't in the Fearamid, he was at his house. He had defeated Bill and kept his brother. Bill was gone. Bill was gone. Gone gone gone gone gone...

"Stanley." he said, blinking for the first time in a while. Stan gave him a confused look. "Yeah?" He asked as Ford sat up and pushed his hand off of him. "I'm sorry for scaring you," Ford said, reaching over to the side table and grabbing his glasses before shoving them onto his face. "It was just a bad dream, I'm fine now." Stan cocked an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms and glaring down at Ford. "Uh-huh," he said in a disbelieving tone. "Yeah right." 

Shoving himself off of the bed Ford did his best to not make eye contact with his twin. "Yes. I'm fine, nothing I haven't been through before." A lie. Ford had just lied to Stanley. But hey, Stan did it to him all of the time, so why couldn't Ford? There was no need for Stan to know about... that. Was it true what dream-Bill had said, was he _letting_ Bill do this to him? 

His brother seemed discontent with Ford's answer, but didn't say anything as Ford grabbed his coat from off of his side chair. Ford kept his eyes on the ground the entire time, sliding the coat onto his shoulders, turning towards Stan and opening his mouth to say something, but snapping it shut before he could. Stan's eyes trailed him as Ford stepped out of the room, and made his way down the hall.

Ford didn't know what to do. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to talk to Stan, but not about his dream. But also about his dream. But Stan would never see him the same way again. What would Stan even say when he heard that Ford had these types of experiences? There was no doubt he'd be upset. 

Walking through the Shack he saw that the sun was already shining. He must have slept later in than he was expecting. Clearing his expression of any unfavorableness he made his way silently to the kitchen, listening to the faint sounds of Soos leading a Mystery Tour in the background. Upon reaching the kitchen he was met with his niece, nephew, and a strange woman he had never seen before. 

"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel cried, practically launching herself across the room and wrapping her arms around him. Almost immediately regretting his decision to go get breakfast Ford put on his best fake smile and patted the girls back. _What are you letting Bill do to you?_ echoed through his mind as he stared down at Mabel's hair, and did his best to not stiffen noticeably in her embrace. 

After a few moments Mabel released him and turned back to her brother and the woman, who was in the same kind of t-shirt Soos had been wearing the year prior. Mabel grabbed Ford's hand, disregarding his little gasp at her touch, and beamed at her. "Melody, this is my Grunkle Stanford! Grunkle Stan's twin brother! You know how Soos talks about a 'Dr. Pines'? Well this is him!" 

She pulled on Ford's hand, signifying that she wanted him to step forward. 'Melody' smiled at him, not quite as intense as the ones Mabel gave him, but still nice. "It's nice to meet you doctor Pines, I'm Melody... Er... You might know me as Soos' girlfriend." Her brown eyes held a warmth Ford hadn't seen in quite some time, her brown hair came to just around her shoulders, and she definitely looked like the kind of person Soos would pick to date. She held a small hand out to him, and Mabel dropped his just in time for him to shake it. "Greetings." he said, stealing a look at Mabel, "But please, call me Ford. I'm afraid 'Doctor Pines' was a thirty-year-old idiot with too many Ph.Ds for his own good." 

Melody laughed as she dropped his hand. "Got it Ford," she threw her own glance at the thirteen-year-old girl, who smiled at them innocently. "Well, Dipper and Mabel were jst telling me about the time the four of you defeated 'Probabiltor the Annoying'. I must say, the imaginations the young folks have these days..." she threw him a wink as Mabel groaned. "I'm telling you Mel! It was real! Ask Grunkle Ford!" 

Ford blinked at Mabel, then back at Melody. "You must excuse me, I'm afraid that although my mind is knowledgeable, I must have coffee before I can access anything inside of it." Melody nodded, stepping aside as Ford came up to the counter and began busying himself with making his drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention it last time, but thanks to the seven people who've left Kudos and the two who have followed this... thing! These chapters will probably all be short and sweet? However 'sweet' a topic like this can be. 
> 
> Ford is doing a 'good' job distracting himself from his own subconscious. He'll have to come to terms with what happened to him eventually.


	4. Chapter 4

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ _Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ _Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ _Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ _Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._ _Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock..._

_Ford had lost count of how many seconds were passing. He couldn't tell if there was a real clock somewhere around where he was or if his head was just pulsing and creating the noise. At any rate, time seemed to be moving slower than it had in even Dimension 5'kk, where time was at one-quarter speed. It was probably due to the fact that now his entire body was made out of gold, and he was (probably) sitting in Bill's room, awaiting the triangle to come back and torment him some more._

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

_How long had Weirdmageddon been going on now? A month? A week? A year? Was it possible that time no longer existed? Was Bill really as powerful as he made himself out to be? If so, how many lifetimes would it take for Bill to finally break Ford, leave his mind and body completely in shambles while he extracted everything he could ever want from his old 'friend'. Would Ford eventually cave and let Bill have free reign? Maybe even give him his consent to do whatever he wanted to his body? Would he ever become that desperate if Bill gave him enough time?_

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

_What about Dipper and Mabel? Would Ford ever see his niece and nephew again? Was either of them safe? It was unlikely that Bill already had captured either of them, since the demon wasn't up to using them as leverage against Ford yet. And if they were never captured... Would they still grow up regularly? Would they still be kids the next time Ford saw them? What if they were adults when they finally could rescue Ford... But would Ford ever let them? After what Bill had done to him, and would continue to do, could Ford ever trust himself in civil society again? Would Dipper and Mabel ever accept him?_

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

_And Stan? What would Ford give to have Stan next to him now? Sure he wasn't quite ready to forgive him for everything, but Stan had to know that Ford still cared for him. Right? What if Ford never saw him again? What if Stan was captured? There was little to suggest that Bill would think of using Stan against Ford. He would probably either kill him or turn him into another statue to go in his collection. And if Stan wasn't captured... there was a risk that he would die of old age long before Bill was done with Ford. Ford might live for centuries off of Bill's power, but Stan would be cast aside._

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock..._

_All that was left to do was wait._

* * *

_It felt like a million years, yet no time at all when Ford received feeling once again. Of course, his 'welcome back to the world' gift was an electric shock right off of the bat, but at least it was something._

_His hairs all stood on end, his body writhed and tried to escape the deadly force coursing through it, but there was nowhere to go, no one to turn to. All that was left in his life was pain, pain, pain, and of course, Bill._

_Bill. Bill. Bill... Bill... Bill! Bill! Bill!_

_"Bill!" was the first word his scorched throat choked out as he regained consciousness, and at his outburst the pain instantly stopped. Crumpling to the stone floor, which was almost as warm as the demon floating about Ford, but was probably due to the electricity that had been pumped into it mere seconds before. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, his heart beating intensely in his chest. Everything about and around him seemed... alive._

_Gasping for air he closed his eyes, listening to his blood roar. The next thing he felt was the tip of Bill's cane tap his head gently, and he looked up at the demon in indignation. Breathing heavily and trying to shake the feeling of electricity from himself he blurted out, "I will never. Never, tell you what you want to hear." Biting the inside of his lip he watched as Bill's yellow body flashed red, then Bill said in a low voice, "Don't be too sure about that Sixer."_

_The next thing Ford knew a large black hand was pulling on his hair, jerking his head up and nearly yanking the hair out of his head. Letting out a shout Ford could do little but listen as Bill laughed maniacally. "You know... I find you so appealing when you scream." Bill said, bringing Ford closer to himself, watching the human twist in front of him with humor that only someone as evil as he could ever find joy in. "I wonder if I can get you to scream out that equation... or... You know, I liked when you said my name like that."_

_Feeling sick to his stomach for a number of reasons Ford forced himself not to vomit. He wanted to open his mouth to tell Bill that that would never happen, but when he did all that came out of it was another cry of pain. Bill shuddered pleasurably, causing the hand holding Ford up by his hair to tremble ever so slightly, putting more tension on Ford's scalp._

* * *

Cries of pain were the first indication that something was wrong in the basement. Sure Ford had had his fair share of injuries around Stanley on the _Stan O' War_ , but Stan wasn't sure what was hurting his brother now. As far as he knew Ford hadn't mentioned any new experiments he'd been working on, and even if he had started one without alerting him it was unlikely his pain would last for so long. 

Plus, it didn't exactly sound like a pain that came from a pinched finger, or a slice, it sounded rawer. More guttural. And... like the memory of pain than the actual situation, if Stan did say so himself. 

Speeding his way to Ford's 'private study' Stan didn't even pause to think of the potentially embarrassing situation he might be putting his brother in. Ford always liked handling his problems on his own, rather than ask for other's help. But goodness help Stan he was going to help his twin even if Ford sucker-punched him for the millionth time. 

Sure enough, the moment Stan threw Ford's door open, there was his brother, lying in bed and shaking like a leaf. Stan choked suddenly, inadequacy building up inside of his stomach. Generally, he prided himself in his ability to protect his family, and that was true for the most part, but whatever traumatic experience had happened to Ford was really making him terrified... and put him in pain. Stan didn't want Ford to wake up and not realize that Stan wasn't part of the threat.

A strangled cry from Ford snapped him out of his confused thoughts, and he carefully approached Ford's side, and tapped his shoulder, making sure he was mostly out of the way of his brother's fists. 

"Hey Ford... Ford... Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" 

Stan would never forget the look of pure terror that was in Ford's eyes as they opened at that moment. Whatever Ford had been dreaming about was obviously still at the front of his mind, and he spat out a muffled word before grabbing Stan's hand in a lightning-fast motion and twisting his wrist almost to the breaking point. 

Then, all in a moment, Ford seemed to fully wake up. His eyes widened and he stared at Stan in shock and horror. "Stanley?" he asked, his calm composure starting to slide right back on, "Uh... Thank you." He released Stan's wrist and sat up, rubbing his eyes and reaching for his glasses. Stan stared in wonder at him as he stood up and shoved the frames onto his face, turning towards the door and starting to shakily walk towards it. 

"Hold up. What just happened?" Stan asked, catching up with his twin and cutting him off before he could leave. Ford blinked at him, his cheeks growing a bit darker. "None of your concern Stanley. You woke me up and I'm fine now. Now if you'll excuse me I think that some coffee..."

Stan held a hand up in front of Ford's face. "Stop right there," he said, and Ford glared at his palm. "No one is having any coffee, or food, of whatever of any kind until you tell me what the heck is going on!" Ford's gaze snapped to Stan's face, and he said in a low and dangerous voice, "Stanley, I am not discussing this right now. Not now, not ever. You're not going to find out, and that's okay. Now, let me go get-" 

"What are you talkin' about?" Stan snapped, causing Ford to snap his jaw shut. "What? You don't trust me?" Ford breathed an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. "Of course I trust you Stan, I just don't-" 

"Don't care?" Stan finished for him, raising an eyebrow and glaring at him. "Huh?" Ford growled angrily and snapped, "Stanley I do care about you! I care about you too much to bother you with such issues! Maybe I want to be the one protecting _you_ for once!" 

Stan stared in shock at Ford, who had drawn himself up to his full height, taking full use of his one and half inches on his brother. Stan opened his mouth to respond but Ford was already shoving him out of the way and storming out of the room. 

Note to Stan: If it's Ford who's screaming, don't expect an explanation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to all those who've left Kudos! I got more! Yay!   
> As you can tell... I sort of like torturing the characters I love. And have them shun each other. I personally don't believe that Ford would be super open about his feelings to... anyone, without a certain level of prodding. Of course, by the end of this fic it's going to happen, but we're (probably) far away from that. I've already been mapping out a speech from Stan about it, and I already have an ending in mind.   
> Btw, if you like this... maybe leave a comment? I know I'm no J.K. Rowling (thank goodness...) and I can always improve, so let me know anything you'd like me to work on.


	5. Chapter 5

Ford was a man with locks. Locks on his secrets. Locks on his mind. Locks on his words. Locks on his doors. 

Lots of locks on his door. Five, to be exact. Of course he covered them up when they were undone, no need for the rest of his family to know about them. He also added a muffling spell over the walls. Any sound that came from his room was completely dissipated before it could reach the rest of the house. No matter how loudly he screamed no one would hear it. He wouldn't bother anyone. Not now, and never again. 

He'd tested it out by shouting his brother's name at the top of his lungs from inside of his room. Knowing that Stanley was near, and seeing that he didn't even try to get in he was satisfied with his work. There would be no bothering anyone, Ford would never be a burden again. 

_Not a burden Sixer? Ha! You've always been a burden and you always will be!_

Ford didn't know when Bill's voice had first popped up in his head. It had been there decades ago, but once his metal plate had been installed it had gone silent. But now it was back. Back and in full force. And unlike last time Ford did nothing to stop it. He didn't believe it of course... probably... maybe... Okay... he might... sort of... definitely trust it. And believe that it was accurate. Just because it sounded like Bill in his head didn't mean it was wrong... right? 

He truly was a burden, a burden upon everyone and everything he'd ever interacted with. He was a burden on Stan, always dragging him off to the ends of the earth (literally) and causing him tremendous heartache. He was a burden on the kids, trying to force a rift between them at such a young age. Of course he wouldn't tell them that, they wouldn't be able to see that he was right. That's why he was doing this. He was a burden and didn't deserve their love and affection. 

_That's right. You don't deserve love and affection. That's why you're in here, with me. The only person who could actually love you is me... So why don't you stay awhile?_

He stared at the locks on his door, three brass and two silver. All of them were locked and Ford wanted nothing more than to undo them and fling himself out of the room. He wanted out. Out, out, out, out out out out out out! He blinked slowly and watched as his right hand rose at almost its own accord. It rested on the top brass knob, and was about to flip the deadbolt... then stopped. 

No. He wasn't going to get out. He didn't deserve it. 

He slumped back, his hand falling to his side. Squeezing his eyes shut he turned around and walked over to his wooden chair and sat down, holding his head in his hands. As he did... was it just his imagination? Or was there really warm hands running through his hair? He wanted to tilt his head up but he couldn't seem to find the strength to do so. The hands began massaging his scalp, and he wanted to melt into their touch. 

He opened his eyes and saw nothing in front of him. The hands in his hair (nonexistent hands but hands nonetheless) began to sneak down to his sweater's collar. He shuddered as he felt the ghost of Bill's hands slide under his sweater, massaging his bach along his spine, and made their way further down. Down down down...

He suddenly sat bolt upright, and the hands disappeared. "No." he said out loud. "You're not real. You're not real!" His hands clenched into fists as he stared at the spot in front of him. "You're not real! You can't hurt me!" 

_Hurt you? If you say so... You know... I rather liked what Bill did to us... The way he tasted, the way his eyelashes felt fluttering over us, going deeper... deeper... deeper inside of us... inside of you... me... I think he could probably see into our soul... tell what we were thinking... about how we wanted more... Why are we shaking? Why do we feel like crying? Do we deserve crying?_

"No... No I don't..." Ford said, choking down his first batch of tears in a long while. "No I don't deserve crying." The phrase his father had drilled into him echoed through his mind _'real men don't cry_ '. Did he want more? Was he really willing to let Bill go all the way? And wasn't it a nice feeling?

He violated you Ford! The sense of reason (the true Ford as he liked to call it) blared the message through his mind. There was no liking it! That was the whole meaning of what Bill had done to him! There was no feelings behind Bill's actions besides a desire for information. There were no feelings on Ford's end either. None. None whatsoever. 

Breathing difficultly Ford forced himself to stand up again. His entire body began to scream at him to sit down again. To maybe... even... sleep...

But sleep meant Bill, and there was no way Ford wanted to go back to him. 

_That's right. Run away from Bill. Keep yourself awake for Bill. Starve your body of rest and relaxation. That's totally not what Bill did to you in the first place! Ha! It was almost like history wanted to repeat itself. Maybe... we'll go back to the multiverse... And this time there's no real Bill to defeat... You'll be running from this for forever... Or should I say, Ford-ever? Ha! Get it?_

"Get out..." he mumbled to himself flopping down on the hard floor right under him, all the energy he'd had just gone. "Please just get out." The voice seemed to laugh. 

_Get out? But I just got here... And plus.. I'm you. You're sort of trapped in your body. Maybe that can change though..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I've figured out where this fic is going... and needless to say it will be a bit dark. And by a bit I mean very... but not too much since I'm (as I've said before) squeamish. Check the new tags if you want a preview. And thanks to the seven people (I think I don't know for sure) who left Kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey! Mabel! Give that back!"   
"Ha! As if! Come get it yourself!"   
"Urgh! Mabel!" 

Mabel furrowed her brow as she glared at her teenage brother. In her hands she held a piece of paper that Dipper had been writing on just a moment before. "What?" she asked, waving it at him as her brother's face grew red. "Ooh! Is this about Wend-" 

"No!" Dipper cried, shoving himself forward. At the sound of him loudly falling on his face sounded through the room the two young twins gained the attention of the two adults also in the room. Ford and Melody looked up at Dipper as he shoved himself back up and began to try to grab the paper from Mabel's grip. Melody chuckled, a small smile creeping up on her lips. Ford stared at them, his face lacking any emotion. 

Mabel ran to the other end of the room, the paper clutched in her hand as she giggled. Dipper chased her and almost crashed into the wall as Mabel ducked away from him and dashed to the other side again. Dipper spun around nearly instantly and followed her again, and so the chase began. Melody laughed again, her eyes twinkling. Ford watched them silently, not even a smirk appearing on his tired face. 

Melody looked over at him, and her smile died away. "What's wrong Ford?" she asked as the only movement Ford made was blinking. Ford shook his head, looking back down at the book he was reading. "It's nothing Melody," he said curtly and avoided looking at the woman sitting on the couch that had replaced Stan's armchair. Dipper finally caught up with Mabel before Melody could reply and Mabel responded by reading the letter out loud. 

"Dear Pacifica- AHHH!!! My brother has a crush on Pacifica!" Mabel squealed loudly and Dipper blushed deeply. "I do not!" he deflected but his sister just rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah right. Come on! You like Pacifica! Admit it!" Mabel suddenly gained an evil glint in her eyes and she turned to the two adults. "Grunkle Ford! Do you think Dipper has a crush on Pacifica? Ask him?" 

Caught off guard by his inclusion in the conversation Ford shook his head, then said, "Uh... Who does Dipper have a crush on?" Ford didn't know that it was possible for a person to blush as hard as Dipper was. "Noone!" he shouted his entire face as red as Ford's sweater. "Pacifica is just a friend. Just a friend." Mabel laughed sharply. "Uh-huh... Grunkle Ford, you're a relationship expert, do you think Dipper is just 'friends' with Pacifica?" 

"Mabel, the only 'expertise' I have in relationships is getting hurt, so I have no idea," Ford admitted, snapping his book shut suddenly and standing up. "So when she dumps him and leaves him brokenhearted send him my way." With that, he turned around on his heel and walked out of the room, Melody and Mabel watching him go. 

"What happened to him?" Melody asked looking back at Dipper and Mabel. Mabel shrugged and said, "Well, his ex happens to be an evil triangle demon who tried to kill him and us. Mayor Tyler says we're not supposed to talk about him." Melody's jaw dropped, then she shrugged. "Honestly, from what I know about this town that's like the third weirdest thing I've heard about."

* * *

 _'W_ _hen he's heartbroken send him my way?'_ _What in the freaking Multiverse was that supposed to be? Are you_ trying _to get Mabel on your case?_

Ford stared at his book in his hands. _Hyperadvanced quantum physics 12th edition_ didn't seem as appealing as it had an hour ago. In fact, nothing seemed appealing. Before he even thought about it he had literally thrown the book to the ground, the pages opening and bending against the floor. Ford had always cared about the sanctity of books, but not now. He stared at the book that was being ruined, then grabbed his head in his hands. He was an idiot. 

He was the most idiotic idiot to ever live, in this dimension and the next. 

Why had he said that? He was basically begging to be questioned. And in front of his niece, nephew, and the woman he barely knew! The only worse person he could have said that around would be Stan, because he'd try to get justice for Ford. And if there was something Ford definitely didn't deserve it was justice. No, Ford deserved what had happened to him. 

_Oh yes. Remember the way Bill felt, when we were blindfolded and chained to the wall? How his hands felt running down our sides? How his lips grazed ours, breathing for the question and telling us all of those ugly truths about us? The ones we liked? How good it felt to shout his name into the void, trying to make him stop?_

It was back, oh Axolotl it was back. Ford could feel Bill's warm hands trailing down his sides, running up and down his entire being. He could hear Bill telling him how awful he was, how he was worthless to everyone except Bill. How pathetic he was. Is. How pathetic he is and will always be. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth opening slightly and his lip quivering. 

Man was he ever pathetic. 

He blinked at his book on the floor and didn't even register his booted foot rising up and crashing down on its spine. The book scrunched underneath his foot and made a sickening _crack_. Ford felt nothing. Not anger at the desecration, not sadness that it was his own being that had done that, not anger, not malice, just... simply... a void. 

Imaginary Bill's hands rubbed circles in his back, not the kind of circles Ford's mother had given him when he was young and sick, but circles that said 'I want you'. Bill wasn't... Bill couldn't have been... attracted to him? Was he?

Ford felt like throwing up. The notion that Bill could have felt any... physical feelings towards him... Oh no. No. Bill was just using his humanity against him. There were no emotions behind it. Plus, Bill hadn't gone quite far enough for that...

_Did he? You never knew what he did when you were unconscious._

The blood drained from Ford's face. What _had_ Bill done to him when his mind wasn't present? Could there be... Oh of course there was truth in the voice's claim. The voice was full of truth. What did Bill do to him? Why was it just coming back to him now?

His blue eyes trailed up to the other side of his room. Why was it coming back to him? Why?

Did it matter?

Did anything matter?

Looking down at the book that now lay in pieces at his feet he felt no emotion for the pages scattered on the ground. His own muddy footprints over a good number of them. Some tiny part of him told him to clean his mess up and do his best to fix the book, but the rest of him denied its request. He turned to the door again and rested his head on it.

What was the point? Why was he here?

Bill's hands flickered down his back, the voices in his head filling in the dialogue the real Bill would have definitely said. Ford was a monster. Ford was disgusting. Ford was weak. Ford was the worst human in existence. Maybe the worst creature. Ford would never truly be loved. Ford would be rejected if he ever came clean to anybody. The only person who had ever understood him was Bill. Bill Bill Bill Bill Bill...

"Why can't I forget you?" he whispered, and for once the voice didn't answer.

* * *

Stan sat next to Dipper and Soos, across the table from the only empty spot at the table. Dipper and Mabel were eating quickly, whatever adventure they'd been on that day having enhanced their appetite. Soos was joking with Melody, who was laughing every now and then, throwing her head back and smiling. Stan chuckled every now and then along with her, and Dipper and Mabel had constant smiles. 

It was a perfect family dinner. The pinnacle of perfection... if it wasn't for one person's absence. 

Over the din of family dinner droned Stan's thoughts, wondering what was wrong with his twin. True Ford often got caught up in a project or book, but he had never missed a family meal since they'd returned to Gravity Falls. Admittedly none of them were that amazing at cooking but Ford had always complimented the chef on the food. Mainly because the nerd often forgot to eat at any other time. 

Where was he?

Ford's absence was something noted by everyone else around the table, even Melody had gotten used to his presence at their gatherings. None of them commented about it for a good thirty minutes, hoping that he was just preoccupied for just a few more minutes. Finally Dipper's voice cut through the awkwardness and asked, "So... Grunkle Stan... Where's uncle Ford?"

Stan froze, his fork, which had been twisting his slightly burnt spaggetti around, dropped to his plate. "Oh... Uh... That's a good question." His eyes met Dipper's and his nephew said plainly, "You don't know, do you?" Stan shook his head, and added, "Why don't you go get him. He probably forgot." He waved Dipper away from his empty plate, and the four of them watched the young teen walk towards the gift shop. 

"What does Ford do exactly?" Melody asked, her hand resting on Soos' arm lightly. Stan shrugged as his attention was dragged away from the place where Dipper used to be. "Oh, uh... Well... As far as I can tell he was like, criminal number one in the multiverse. He doesn't like talking about it." Melody nodded, and Stan was grateful for her understanding attitude. "So... A sci-fi warrior." she mumbled and her boyfriend laughed. Stan offered her his own smile and said, "Yea, pretty much." 

Melody smiled down at her plate. "That is so cool. Way cooler than that awful magician I once dated." Upon mentioning her ex she leaned over and pecked Soos on the cheek. "Right honey?" Soos blushed deeply and said, "Oh... Uh... Yeah kitten whiskers."

* * *

Dipper slid behind the vending machine, walking down to his uncle's room. He knocked softly on the door, where he could hear a (rather loud and obnoxious) alarm ringing from inside. Upon realizing that Ford probably wouldn't hear his taps over the alarm he gently pushed the door open, entering his uncle's room for the first time on purpose without permission. 

What he was met with was utter chaos. 

Books were scattered all over the floor, shards of glass were practically everywhere, and his uncle was simply sitting against the back wall, staring at the mess in front of him. Dipper's jaw dropped, then he gasped, "Uncle Ford! Are you alright?" 

Ford didn't answer him. 

Thinking the worst Dipper dashed forward, making sure he didn't step on too much glass. He knelt down in front of his uncle, who was breathing heavily and seemed to be in a fitful sleep. Ford wasn't speaking, but his face said everything he wasn't able to articulate. 

He was deep in a nightmare. 

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper asked, gripping Ford's arms and shaking his upper torso. "Come on Uncle Ford! Wake up! It's not real!" Ford groaned in response, spurring Dipper to shake him harder. "C'mon Grunkle Ford." Dipper said, and Ford's head rlled to one side then his eyes blinked open. 

"Oh no." was the first words he said once he was awake again, then he blinked and seemed to realize what was going on. He jerked up, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Dipper? What? What are you doing here?" Ford reached up with his left hand and adjusted his glasses. Dipper blinked at him, choosing instead to answer truthfully. "You missed supper... we were worried about you." 

Ford breathed out, blinking at Dipper, who shuffled nervously. "Oh... I'm sorry..." Dipper nodded, then said, "Uh... What happened in here." His uncle visibly stiffened, then looked at the books. "Oh... Uh... I don't... Well... That doesn't matter." Carefully he pushed himself up onto his feet, and Dipper looked up at him. "Okay... Uh... Do you want me to help you clean up?" Ford stared down at him, his eyes heavy and still half full of sleep. "No. I can handle it. I'll be right out Dipper." Dipper nodded, then added, "Okay Grunkle Ford... I'll reheat your food..." 

He turned around and walked towards the other end of the room. "Oh, and I'd tell Stan about those nightmares before it gets out of hand. You know how Grunkle Stan's like..." His eyes met Ford's one last time, and then the boy was gone from sight. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Up and down, up and down, up and down. That seemed to be Ford's life, bobbling on the ocean that was Bill's emotions and desires. Bill would crank him up by his arms, exposing every little part of him, demand that Ford tell him what he wanted, and when Ford outright refused he would shove himself against him, slamming the miserable human to the ground without so much as a warning._

_Ford wondered what sort of sick torture this was meant to be._

_His head felt like it had been busted open, his arms were aching from hanging for so long, and his mouth was completely dry for lack of water for so long. It was taking more and more energy to defy the demon, and Ford didn't know how much more he could take before he would inevitably pass out. Luckily for him it appeared that Bill was growing bored, which would lead to his 'resting' as a statue like the others._

_But today was different, Bill had a new plan for his favorite toy._

_it felt like hours before Bill finally allowed the miserable being to take a break. Ford was sure that he had at least a dozen broken bones, and even the act of breathing provided him with extreme pain. He had been oddly quiet throughout the entire ordeal, doing his best to not grant Bill the satisfaction of hearing his cries. Bill was turned on by painful yelps, and Ford was already uncomfortable in the demon's presence._

_Bill floated down to the ground, where Ford was a pitiful lump curled up on the brick floor. He grew in size and picked him up like a rag doll, holding him by the scruff of his neck and inspecting his various injuries._

_"Wow Fordsie, you're durable." he said, poking the man in the side. Ford couldn't help it, but a short yelp escaped his mouth at the sudden contact. Bill's eye flared, and he whispered, "So you can speak." Ford cracked an eye open, staring into the slit in front of him. He wanted to pass out, he wanted to get this over with. He wanted to die. Right then, right there, in Bill's hands. The pain everywhere else surpassed the pinching of his neck, and he lolled his head to the side to provide his body with much needed motion.  
_

_Bill seemed to smile, smile sickly down at Ford, who wanted to curl up in a ball. A large black finger jabbed at his side again, and this time Ford bit his lip to keep from crying out. Another swift jab came, closely followed by one on his other side. Then a hand grabbed his left leg, right over the fracture, and Ford couldn't help it anymore._

_Bill shuddered with pleasure at Ford's cry, and with satisfaction he dropped the human onto the floor, Ford letting out the most muffled scream that ever sounded in the multiverse. Bill floated down above the man, who was doing his best to curl up in himself, and pushed him open like a pillbug._

_"Aw Fordsie... You tired? I'm just getting started." Ford's eyes flew open at that thought, fear permiating every molecule of his being. Bill placed a hand over Ford's upper face, and said in an almost nurturing tone, "Say 'Ah'."_

_A swift jolt forced Ford to do what Bill had said, and an unknown substance fell into his mouth. To his credit Ford did his best to spit it out, but the triangle forced his mouth shut. After a minute of indignation Ford swallowed, rather difficultly if Bill did say so himself._

_And instantly he began to scream._

_"How'd you like that?" Bill asked, as Ford's chained hands tried to fly up to Bill's pressed over his eyes and nose. "All of your senses are heightened, every single one of them. All of that pain you were just feeling has been tripled. Now, do you want to talk about the barrier? I'll heal you if you do. And trust me, your injuries aren't more severe, you're just experiencing all of them that way."_

_At Ford's newfound silence Bill sighed. "I see that you're an especially tough one to break. No matter, now you'll feel this better." A hand started trailing a way around the collar on Ford's neck, and for the first time Bill got to hear what he wanted. Ford's whimper. The black fingers ducked under the collar, compressing and massaging the over sensitive skin._

_And Ford was completely powerless to stop it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did this happen? How did I start to write this?   
> Rereading this I realized that I can be really... dark... Huh... If you meet me irl I'm a really bubbly person, then you read my work and it's like...  
> Huh.  
> Wouldn't have guessed.   
> Thanks to Anonymous for being brave and commenting. It really means a lot.   
> Until we meet again.


	8. Chapter 8

_Dear Mabel,_

_I-_

* * *

_Dear DIpper,_

_I realize how much of a shock this will come to you. But I assure you that it is nothing to be ~~afraid~~ ~~worried~~ concerned about. ...I'm fine, or at least I should be. So don't go looking for trouble... Hmm... For the first time in my life I am struggling to find the words to write..._

* * *

_Dear Mabel,_

_Don't stop being Mabel._

* * *

_Dear St-_

* * *

_Dearest Stan,_

* * *

_Stan,_

_~~I~~ , ~~You~~ ~~We~~_

_~~You don't understand.~~ _

* * *

Three hours. He'd been sitting at his desk for three hours! He hadn't read, he'd barely written, he hadn't even thought! He'd just sat there, like a log. Nothing but emptiness inside of him. 

Ford didn't know why he was writing letters to his family. Bill's voice had told him to do so that morning and he hadn't even thought twice before obeying it. 

Not that he knew what he wanted to say.

What did he want to say?

Why didn't he know?

He looked up at his clock, which read 12:08 and sighed, he spun his chair to the left and crossed another day off of his calender. Congratulations Ford, yesterday was your fifth day without sleep. You're doing fine. 

His last record had been seventeen, and he hoped he could make his way back up to that. 

He had made it six last week. When he found himself waking up that Sunday he had been forced to punish himself by Bill. Bill was right. Ford was wrong. Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. He didn't hurt himself, just didn't let himself eat all day. 

It wasn't like his body wasn't used to that. 

He didn't eat until Tuesday, when Mabel had commented on the fact he'd missed breakfast. The girl had sat him down in the kitchen and gave him a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. It had taken all of Ford's resolve not to scarf them down. Even now his stomach growled, but he didn't pay it any attention. 

When was the last time he'd looked in a mirror? A month ago? Two? 

Would he ever look in a mirror again? 

With a sigh he turned back to his papers, and poked a pen on the top of one of them. With surgon-like accuracy he carefully formed the letter D and stopped. 

What was wrong with him?

 _C'mon man! Write the stupid thing!_ Bill's voice called out to him, forcing him to write. Ford almost, almost wished that Bill's voice could write the words for him, but then he remembered what he was doing this for. 

This was Ford's punishment. 

_Dear Stan,_

_I know this will come as a shock to you, seeing that I'm-_

He stopped. What would he be? Finally free? How? Finally out of his brother's hair? How again? Away? Where? Missing? Why? 

He didn't even notice him add the word _dead_ to the end of the sentence. 

Ford could be dead. 

What was more freeing than death? 

What could take him far away from Stan's personal business. 

What could make him never be a burden again? 

The answer was plain, simple, and sweet. Death. If Ford was dead... He couldn't hurt Stan or the kids ever again. 

If Ford died... 

Death. 

Ford Pines: Deceased... That had a nice ring to...

What was he thinking!? He couldn't die! What would Dipper and Mabel think!? 

Maybe he could live... just a bit longer. Until Dipper and Mabel didn't need him anymore. 

How long would that take? How long _could_ that take?

* * *

June crept into July. The days started getting warmer and warmer, and then warm melted (almost literally) into hot, then it was scorching. 

So no one was at all surprised by Ford's complete change of wardrobe. 

The first month after the Pines had returned to Gravity Falls Ford had worn his standard sweater and trenchcoat duo, but moving into July saw a completely different Dr. Pines. He dropped the coat entirely, and his sweater was replaced by a thin black t-shirt, and his brown boots, which he had worn almost every day for the past ten years (and had been the only article of clothing he still wore from in the multiverse) were abandoned, replaced with new black ones. His hair was also cut short, to the point where Stan's was longer than his. Which was saying something. 

But no one seemed to care, or really notice his outfit. No. What they saw were the scars and tattoos. 

Mabel (of course) was the first to notice them. Her brown eyes widened, and as always she knew exactly what to say. "Whoa. Grunkle Ford, you look cool!" She crossed the gift shop and wrapped her sweater covered arms around his middle, not seeming to care that he didn't return her embrace. "Did you have a good sleep?" 

Ford, who had _not_ slept that night, nodded. Mabel gave him a smile, not seeming to notice the large bags under his eyes. "That's good. Your arms are so rad! Wendy, look at him!" Under normal circumstances Ford would have been incredibly embarrassed by the teen looking at such a sensitive area, but now he found that only the pit in his stomach opened a bit under her gaze. 

"Man, I hope _my_ arms look like yours when I'm older." Wendy said, a strange amount of truth in her voice. "Remind me to get some monster training from you." 

"Of course, I'd be happy to show you some tricks I learned." Ford said, _If you're alive long enough to teach her_. He sounded not at all happy about that prospect, but no one seemed to notice. No one ever noticed. Wendy simply raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to her magazine. "Sweet. I'll hold it to you Uncle Ford." 

Ford didn't have the willpower to respond to her, he just let Mabel lead him into the kitchen. 

_Seriously? You made a promise to the Corduroy girl? You're just getting attached again. Remember what happened last time?_

Mabel sat him down in a chair in the kitchen, which was occupied by Stan making food and Dipper reading a book. Mabel crossed the room and began helping Stan create their breakfast. Dipper glanced up at him, and his eyes fell to his arms. 

Or more specifically, his wrists. 

Red rings showed where his chains had once been. The weight of Dipper's eyes made it feel like the cuffs were back on him, and it took Bill's voice commanding him to not wrap his hands around them to keep them on the table. 

"Morning Grunkle Ford." Dipper said, his eyes dashing up to Ford's face, catching on the matching redness around his neck. Ford offered him half a smile and said, "Good morning Dipper, what are you reading?" Dipper's face, which had grown sad at the image of his uncle ( _See Fordsie, he thinks your repulsive)_ brightened, "Oh, it's just the latest Sibling Brothers book, _The missing mirror_. I just got it the other day when Mabel and I were in town." He held the book up, which depicted two blonde teenagers pointing a flashlight at a shattered mirror. 

The boys on Dipper's book seemed very familiar, but Ford didn't have the willpower to try to remember them. "Facinating." he said, not finding to be at all so. "You'll have to lend it to me when you're done." 

_Another promise Sixer? Are you sick? Oh wait, of course you are. You_ are _the sickness after all._

Dipper smiled, "Yeah, I will." He cracked the book open again, and began to read once more. Ford sat in silence, watching his brother and niece finish cooking. Stan slid a pile of eggs onto a plate and turned back to the table. 

And nearly dropped it at the sight of his brother. 

He and Ford went still at the same time. Stan's eyes trailed Ford's arms and neck and he looked like he wanted to stammer out something, but Mabel said "Doesn't he look cool Grunkle Stan?" before either of them could say anything. Stan blinked, then said, "Oh, uh, yeah. You look cool Ford." 

He wasn't scared. He wasn't angry. He liked them. Which meant he didn't understand it. 

Stan didn't care about what had happened to Ford. 

No one cared. 

Ford was alone even around his family. 

"Let's eat!" Mabel said, sliding onto the chair next to Fords. She reached out, gripped Ford's hand for a brief second, then grabbed the plate of eggs. "Doesn't this look good Grunkle Ford?" Ford simply nodded, staring at her hand, wrapping around the plate, grabbing her fork and sliding some of the yellowness onto her one plate, sliding the egg plate over to him. 

Oh yeah, nourishment. He needed to eat or his family would worry about him, and if he made them worry he'd be even more of a burden to them. And if he was going to be gone he wanted to leave them with a good last impression. 

And plus he needed to give Stan the honor of eating his food as one of his last meals. 

Wait. Why was he thinking like this? He wasn't going to die for years. 

Not until Mabel and Dipper could live without him. 

He scooped some eggs onto his plate, and accepted a cup of coffee from Stan. 

It was good. And Ford didn't deserve it. 


	9. Chapter 9

You would have to be an idiot to think that Stan didn't notice the change in Ford's mood. 

I mean he wasn't exactly hiding it. The outfit change, the spending excessive amounts of time with the kids, the guy was practically begging for someone to notice. Now if he wanted anyone to comment on this change was anything thing, and that was something Stan hadn't quite figured out. 

Ford had had nightmares on the Stan O' War and Stan knew what they were about. Namely the other dimensions. Give a guy thirty years of free reign in the multiverse and chances are quite high that he'd run into some seriously messed up stuff. And the type of person Ford was proved that he kept diving into things that others would consider taboo. 

Stan had seen his scars on a number of occasions, but only when Ford hadn't wanted him to and Stan had to peek. It was strange to see him prance them around... almost like he was proud of them. And after all why wouldn't he be? All of his scars were a testament to his bravery and cunning, and Stan was lucky to have a brother as awesome and amazing as Ford. 

So yeah, Ford's change of outfit was definitely, one hundred percent, a sign of his healthiness. There was absolutely no reason for Stan to worry about him. In fact there was evidence to the contrary, if Stan worried about him or said that he was Ford would internalize it and say that they were devolving in their relationship. And if there was one thing Stan didn't want to do it was that. 

Ford was absolutely fine.

* * *

Ford was _not_ fine. 

Every day seemed to last a year and a millisecond at the same time. Of course, the nights were the hardest. It was during the day where Ford could distract himself by watching the kids play together or join their little quests around town, or just pretend to be a normal person. A person worth loving. 

_But your not. You're not worth loving Ford. How dare you steal the love that belongs to someone else._

Just 'til the kids were old enough. Just until they didn't need him anymore. Ford could last just a few more years. He could drudge up some semblance of worth for them for the next couple of years. They needed him to be a figure in their lives, they needed him. 

_Do they though?_

_Do they need you Ford?_

_Or is that just a lie you tell yourself to stimulate stolen worth?_

_There's only so much worth out in the world? Who did you take yours from?_

Pinpricks of tears built up in his eyes. Who _was_ he taking his worth from? Of course there was only one clear answer for that question. The other Grunkle. The Grunkle 1.0. Stanley. Ford had been controlling Stan's life since before they were born. He had taken his worth as a teen, as a young adult, and now he was still leaching off of his brother. His brother who didn't care or notice the trauma Ford had shown out to the world. 

His hands gripped his arms and he stared down at his scars. His eyes caught on one long one that trailed up under his shirt as well. That was the second clearest memory he had of getting some of his scars, only being surpassed by the shakles. 

_His body hung up, topless in the Fearamid, Bill's body so close to him, his yellow eye trailing over every imperfection that riddles his body, his black hand reaching out, a clawed finger coming closer and closer to his flesh. A searing pain in his arm. Pain and pain and more pain. The pain of his teeth biting into his tongue to hold back an awful scream. Bill's laughter at his discomfort..._

Why wasn't he covering up again? 

Suddenly every hint of embarrassment fell from him. Why shouldn't he show them off? It wasn't like people cared. If they noticed they only liked it. No one asked if he was okay, if he needed help. 

And if they did would he let them help him? 

No. 

He didn't deserve their help. 

He didn't deserve even asking for it. 

For the first time ever he contemplated sleeping. To put himself back into Bill's arms. At least with Bill he knew that he would deserve whatever befell him. At least with Bill he knew what he was getting. 

Yet again the sense of reason took over. If he 'got what he deserved' and it made him feel better than he would be taking what he didn't deserve. If he put himself in a situation where he knew what he was getting into he would be selfish. 

And he'd been too selfish already. 

No, he needed to stay awake. Keep plugging forward. There was no escape, not for years. Not until Dipper and Mabel didn't need him anymore and he could kill himself. 

Would he use poison? Would he just shoot himself? Would he thow himself off of the Gravity Falls? Most likely the former since that was the least amount of work for Stan. And if he took pills like cyanide he could go ahead and almost completely bury himself before he died. Stan wouldn't have to lift a finger. 

It would be like blowing out a candle. 

Ford almost couldn't wait. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: There is blood in this chapter, along with other various torture methods my crazed mind is willing to put on my screen. You have been warned.

_There was red in his vision, not the normal red he saw whenever he went into battle or protection mode, but red from his actual surroundings._

_Namely the fact that the entire penthouse suite was covered in his own blood._

_It was the same color as his sweater, which had long since fallen to ribbons on the floor. Bill's long sharp fingers had sliced every inch of his clothing and body, leaving him open, opener than he'd ever been in his entire existence. And even though Ford knew that there was nothing new for Bill to see it still made him feel uncomfortable._

_Or was that just the open wounds? The blood dripping on the ground and making his head woozy, to the point where Ford didn't know how long it'd be until he passed out?_

_And then, in the midst of all of this pain and anguish and_ red _there was a glimmer of light. Like the yellow sun had poked out of a red sunset. And there, in front of Ford's broken and bleeding face, was Bill._

_Bill floated down in front of Ford, looking somewhat compassionate to Ford's plight. Even though that plight was himself. The triangle reached a single black hand out towards Ford, who was too tired to even try to flinch away from him. Bill's thin finger's ruffled Ford's hair playfully, not even caring that he was smearing them with Ford's blood. Bill's eye seemed to smile when Ford let out a pained shout, and his body came closer to him._

_The next thing Ford felt was two new hands reach out and pick him off of the floor, another cry escaping him as he was stood up. The hands seemed to know exactly where the worst places to touch him were, which was unsurprising seeing as they and their brethren had been the ones to inflict the damage upon the human._

_Bill floated closer to Ford, who choked back a pained whimper. The triangle finally made contact with the human that wasn't with his hands, the base of his body hitting his chest, which was expanding and contracting with great difficulty. "Aw, Fordsy, are you hurt?" Bill asked, putting on his innocent facade. On any other occasion Ford would have snapped a witty comeback but his mind was blank, and when he opened his mouth all that came out was a pained squeak._

_The next new thing he knew his pounding headache, which had seemed to be the least of his worries, roared into full force. He groaned, his eyes sliding shut as he went limp in Bill's hands. Bill leaned closer to his left ear and whispered into it, "You know... I can make this all go away... If you're ready to talk."_

_The equation._

_Bill was doing this for the equation._

_"N- No..." he stammered out, and to his shock he felt something warm bubble out of his mouth. It tasted metallic, and Ford knew instantly what it was._

_Blood. Human blood._

_And not just any blood. His own._

_Bill sighed, then said in an almost sorry yet excited tone, "Well. Suit yourself. More for me then!" For the first time in a good minute Ford wanted to open his eyes, even though his headache felt like a nail was being driven into his skull. But when he did open his eyes his eyelashes curled against something pressed up to them._

_With a start he realized that he was blindfolded._

_Oh Axolotl, he was naked and blindfolded._

_Then he felt the most peculiar sensation ever pressed to his lips. It was rough, almost stonelike, and tasted... tasted like... Like sandstone that was tinged with blood (most likely his own), along with time punch and a very specific blend of tea. Tea that he had only tasted thirty years ago, in his mindscape..._

_Bill was kissing him._

_A guttural shout tried to make its way out of his body. His mind, which was already blanking out in several areas, decided that now was the perfect time to shut off. When he was finally allowed a breath (not a long time for one, maybe one or two gasps) he choked out a sob._

_The next time Bill kissed him there was a vibration in his lips. Bill was laughing._ Laughing. _Ford felt tears build up in his eyes. His mind, which he had so carefully trained to focus on his intellect, decided that now was the time to take his mental self somewhere far away._

_Hydrogen. Helium. Lithium. Beryllium. Boron. Carbon. Nitrogen. Oxygen. Fluorine. Neon. Sodium. Magnesium. Aluminum. Silicone. Phosphorus. Sulfur. Chlorine. Argon. Potassium. Calcium..._

_"Aw, Sixer," Bill tilted himself away from Ford, and Ford instantly stiffened, his lips ceasing to move. Had he been saying those out loud? His face felt sticky, his breathing was hard and labored, his body was screaming from every angle. He was sure he had broken bones, possibly some internal bleeding, and he was definitely bleeding out on the floor. "You find your science-y stuff more interesting than me?" Bill's voice continued even after Ford felt a strange sucking sensation on his neck. "The only science you'll need is whatever's in that brain of yours to help me take Weirdmageddon global... Right?"_

_Ford could only whimper in response._

* * *

By now Ford was used to waking up from nightmares. He would be sweaty, yet cold, and he would be able to feel his heart race, and hear the echo of his nightly screams in his ears. 

Man that was a vivid one. 

He could still taste Bill in his mouth. Could still feel his hands holding him up. He couldn't tell if that was a memory or a creation of his mind. At this point it didn't matter. His chest heaved up and down and he wanted nothing more than to stop existing. Right then, right there. He wanted all these memories/nightmares to end. 

He blinked his eyes open, and by force of habit he reached for his glasses on his side table. Since he'd gone to sleep on purpose that night he'd actually taken the time to take them off before going to bed. When he shoved them back on his face, which felt somewhat bare with his short hair, he caught a glimpse at a small photo resting on his bedside table. 

It was of Dipper and Mabel, smiling at him, Mabel's grin big and goofy while Dipper's looked professional. A tug pulled at his heart and he sighed. No. He couldn't have what he wanted right then. There wasn't going to be the sweet release of death for him right now. He needed to live, just until Dipper and Mabel were old enough. Just until they didn't need him anymore. 

Following his daily routine of putting on his black t-shirt and grimacing, he eventually calmed his body enough so that his heart wasn't threatening to beat out of his chest and his breathing was normal. But his mind was going at a million miles an hour. Had Bill really kissed him? Or, whatever the non-emotional equivalent was? Was it true that he had maybe... even... 

No. The thought was too horrible to even think. But he did anyway. He hated himself for that. It was his own fault after all. He had trusted Bill all those years ago, was a horrible burden to Stan for decades, and put his family in extreme danger. Bill was just delivering Ford's just punishments. 

Ford deserved to have his body violated. 

It wasn't like Bill had never done that before. And since Ford had blocked him out on the inside he was left his punishing him externally. 

Ford deserved it.

He found his feet taking him to the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to show that he was going to be fine (the biggest lie he'd ever told) and that his family shouldn't worry about him. It was early, but typically the kids would be up in less than an hour, and Stan would be closely following them. This was the perfect opportunity to at least attempt to put some semblance of family work out. 

When Ford reached the gift shop his foot snagged on something lying near the 'Employee's only' door. Nearly falling flat on his face Ford gasped, his right hand grabbing the wall as he stumbled in the dim light. A mewing sounded, but Ford didn't really register it as he breathed in deeply, then looked down at the lump he had knocked into. 

A large cat stood in front of his left foot, its back arched and eyes seeming to glare at Stanford. Oh. So that's what the meowing sound was. 

Ford found himself unable to formulate the proper words for the situation. Normally he would have spoken to the pet, but instead he simply stared at it. He couldn't see what color its coat was, or its eyes, but he could make out that it was a cat. And it was doubtless Mabel's. 

* * *

Mabel reached the kitchen a while before Dipper or Stan. She bounded towards the scent of familiar breakfast foods wafting from the room, and was pleasantly unsurprised to see her great uncle placing a stack of pancakes down on the table. Unlike his twin Ford never got gross stuff like armhair mixed in his meals, but they always had an otherworldly aftertaste. But so far nothing Ford had made had poisoned anybody (as far as they knew) so they chalked it up to him following some alien version of the recipes. 

"Greetings Grunkle Ford," she said in her chipper voice, and the person in question looked up at her, his eyes looking tired even though he looked like he'd gotten more sleep than he had in months. "Thanks for cooking breakfast!" She stepped around the table, and, per usual, wrapped her arms around him. 

Ford instantly winced, but, once again, Mabel didn't notice. Or care. She smiled up at him, and Ford seemed to melt a bit into her embrace. Not enough to return it, but enough that it made a difference. "Good morning Mabel," He responded, his voice breaking a bit. Mabel released him once more and said, "Well, Dipper just woke up so he'll be down here soon... I didn't see or hear Grunkle Stan, but he never misses breakfast. Especially when you're making it!" 

There was something in Ford's attitude when she said that. Last year (if he'd been on as good terms with his brother as he was now) he'd have ruffled her hair and made a whitty comeback. But... now... he simply nodded, not saying anything as he took a seat at the table. 

Last year he would have started reading a book, or talk to her. Now he sort of just... existed. Like he didn't know what he was doing. 

Mabel sat down next to him and asked in a pleasant tone, "So... How was your sleep?" Ford stiffened, his eyes darting over to her. "It was fine." he said, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table. "I was unconscious, so I don't remember it." Mabel nodded. "No dreams?" she asked, and Ford shook his head silently. Mabel laughed a bit and said, "Well, I had a dream I had a million ice cream cones surrounding my head. And they were all melting at the same time! So I had to lick all of them to stop them from dripping all over mom's new shag carpet, but everytime I finished licking them they kept melting." She smiled at her uncle, who did his best to smile back, but it seemed to be pained. "And when I woke up I had my pillow in my mouth, and it was soaking wet! I put it in the dirty clothes pile for Dipper to wash today." 

Ford nodded, his smile sliding off of his face almost immediately after it had started. Mabel sighed, then said, "So... You have any fun stories from when you were on the Stan O' War?" Ford's eyes brightened ever so slightly, then dimmed once more, this time seeming to be even darker. "Well, there was one time Stan... Well... You see, it wasn't my fault that the cannibal sea stars got on the deck." 

Mabel leaned forward, staring up at his face. "Well you see, we had just left the coast of Russia, and there..." 

A sudden 'meow' cut off his sentence. "Oh yes," he said, glancing under the table. "I believe our guest belongs to you?" Mabel's eyes widened, then she said in a happy voice, "Oh! Did you not know about Augustus?" Ford blinked at her, then said, "No... No I didn't. Is that what you named your cat?" 

Mabel shook her head, "No. That's what Dipper named _Dipper's_ cat. I wanted to name him Mr. Kittypaws the second, but both mom and dad shot down that idea." She reached under the table and picked up the cat, placing it on her lap, where it curled up into a nice circle. "Mom said that since I was taking Waddles here, Dipper should get to bring his own pet. We left Sprinkles at home with them. She's _my_ cat." 

Ford nodded, watching Mabel stroke the feline fondly. "So you have two cats at home, and Waddles?" Mabel nodded. "Yup! We got Augustus right after we got home, on our birthday. That's where Dipper got the name from. I call him Emporor sometimes." She grinned down at the cat and said, "Isn't that right?" Augustus meowed, then purred softly against her. 

Silence followed that. Ford simply watching his niece stroke their new 'friend'. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this was semi-inspired by The Author's Fortitude series of fanart by X-I-L2048 on deviantart.com. It's not toooo graphic, but it does showcase a lot of blood. Like, a lot a lot. It sends pangs down my heart and was another reason why I wanted to write this fic. I guess it's somewhat canon to this specific continuity, so take that as you will.   
> Augustus is going to play a bigger role in the story (not really though... let's just say his middle name is Maguffin). You'll see.
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or left kudos! You guys rock!


	11. Chapter 11

Dipper had no idea what his uncles did inside of the Mystery Shack anymore. 

Last year he was sure that he could count on Stan leading a Mystery Tour, but this year it was Soos who was doing that. And Ford would be holed up in the basement, doing more research. Stan was constantly making new attractions (since a majority of his customers were regulars) and Ford... had missed thirty years of history. But it seemed that whenever Dipper went to Ford's new room he'd always be... sleeping. 

That was weird. 

Hopefully that meant that Ford had gained a healthier sleep schedule in his time on the Stan O' War (which admittedly hadn't been long, but still counted for something), but whenever Stan told stories from their shared time he almost always mentioned the crazy hours Ford would pull. 

What was up with all this napping then?

Ford was almost always the first one awake, and he never missed a family meal, but he was almost never seen just around the house. Which made sense, since he'd had quite a drastic wardrobe change, and the house was always getting filled with random strangers, at least to him. Ford probably just didn't want anyone to see him like that. Yet that begged the question: Why had Ford changed? 

Whenever Dipper was around him he always felt his eyes being drawn to either his neck (where he could see the scar from... something on his neck, along with a tattoo of a weird star with words) or his arms. Matching scars were on his wrists, slightly raised, looking quite delicate, and red, to match his neck as well. There was the start of a tattoo poking out just under his right sleeve, and he had the name 'Tesla' on the opposite forearm. But both tattoos were rather hard to see, with dozens of scars disfiguring them, ranging from quite large to barely bigger than a paper cut. Most of the scars weren't that deep, but there were a few that looked like someone had taken a blender to his arms. 

One was left to wonder what the rest of his body looked like. 

But for the most part Ford seemed fine. There were exactly two times where Dipper had walked in on him caught up in a nightmare, but once he was awake he was right back to the loving Grunkle Dipper had met the year before, if not even more so. He seemed anxious to please (probably because of his almost tearing the two pairs of siblings completely apart) but wasn't overbearing. 

He'd taken quite a liking to Dipper's cat (which he hadn't really wanted to bring, but there was no talking his mother and sister out of one of their passion projects), but there was no evidence of him being overly attached to Augustus. 

Honestly, Dipper trusted Ford. If his uncle wasn't okay he'd tell Dipper. And since he'd been silent so far he was fine. 

There was nothing to worry about.

* * *

_You're not good enough._

_You can't keep this up._

_Are you sure you've made the right decision?_

_You've hurt all of them. You're just a burden upon them. You'd be better off dead._

_They're not even going to miss you._

_You're awful._

_Forgettable._

_Terrible._

_They hate you._

Ford stared forward, Bill's voice whispering in the back of his head all of those truths about himself. 

Except the last one. They didn't hate him. No. Dipper and Mabel and Stan didn't hate him. He hadn't let them. He had to keep them in the dark about how truly awful he was, because if they hated him... If they hated... If he let them see... He couldn't even imagine what would happen if he let them hate him. He deserved it of course, but he didn't want it. 

It was the only thing he deserved that he didn't want. 

_You're horrible._

_You're lying to them._

_You're lying to Dipper. You're lying to Stan. You're lying to Mabel._

_When they find out what you've done they won't even care when you're dead._

He stared down at his wrists, the skin tender even after so many months. Hard to believe it had been nearly twelve months, almost an entire year since he'd been given a taste of what he deserved. 

_A taste? Well, well, well. Aren't we the one for metaphors? You got much more than a taste. I'd say you got a full course meal. With a side of unwanted intimacy! Funny to think that we lost our virgi-_

His mind went blank, even Bill's wonderfully awful voice dying out. No. That never happened. Bill hadn't gone that far. 

The feeling of his eye/lips pressed against his mouth. The sound of his voice asking for the equation while his lips slid further down his body. The nawing feeling that clawed at his insides while he hung helplessly, feeling Bill move about him, his vision taken away from him. The feeling of pain, the stickiness of blood, and the taste of timepunch in his mouth. 

To think that at one point he had liked the stuff. 

His hands were shaking now, and he clasped them together to stop it. He closed his eyes, then immediately regretted it. He could feel Bill's hands once more, and he almost wanted to rub away the sensation. 

But something stayed his hand. The hands were light, like a feather was running down him, and Ford wanted to get rid of them while simultaneously wanting to lean into them. They were what he deserved. They were his punishment for being so awful to the only bright spots in the entire dimension. 

_They'll hate you if you ever told them._

_If you tell them they'll shame you._

_You'll hurt Dipper and Mabel even more._

_Stan will be ashamed._

_They'll all be ashamed that you let all of that happen._

_You're shameful._

_You're worthless._

_Why don't you just end it all? It would be so easy to never hurt them again._

Ford shook his head, Bill's hands disappearing. No. Dipper and Mabel... They weren't ready for that yet. They needed him. Just for a bit longer. Just a bit. Not too long. Then he'd be out of their hair. 

He buried his head in his hands and sat in silence. Bill's voice repeating the truth about his worth. 

Or rather; his lack thereof. 


	12. Chapter 12

Augustus didn't seem to be anywhere. Not all that surprising seeing that Ford didn't notice the cat's existence for the first month of their shared time together in Gravity Falls. Honestly, Ford had barely even met the cat and already he felt... something. Something that connected him to the creature. 

Feeling its claws scrape against his bare skin was one of the few times he actually felt relaxed, even if Mabel instantly fretted over the tiniest bit of blood. 

He was causing Mabel to fret 

He was being a burden to his one bright spot. 

Honestly, if it wasn't for Mabel's mother-hen nature Ford would have tried cutting himself. It wasn't like he hadn't done it in the past. Once coffee had started to lose its effect on him back in the eighties he'd had to resort to dark ways to keep himself awake. Luckily for him he'd received so many new scars in the multiverse that Mabel hadn't even noticed, and his hand had been sloppy all of those years ago. 

It had taken forever to clean the blood out of the carpet though. 

It was much easier to sleep the days away. Throw himself into Bill's grasp every day, catch glimpses of memories (or maybe daymares? what was real now?) that had been forgotten. It was strange... seeing that none of these had ever shown up on the Stan O' War. Maybe because on the Stan O' War Ford was constantly being distracted by Stanley. Always getting pulled off onto strange adventures. Always adding onto the massive pile of debt he owed his twin. 

Stan wasn't the bad twin. 

Stan had never been the bad twin. 

Bad people deserved to have the worst happen to them. Stan hadn't had the worst. Every difficulty he faced ended up turning up well. 

But there was a bad person in the family. 

And that bad person was Ford. 

Ford deserved the punishment he now ran to. 

Maybe that was why he liked Augustus. As a cat Augustus wasn't practically 'in love' with Ford like a dog would be. Augustus was reserved, and when he actually did 'bond' with Ford it always brought some type of pain. 

Pain was good. 

Pain was what he deserved. 

Augustus always disappeared, because Augustus was on the wilder side. Ford didn't deserve to have him there whenever he wanted, but part of him still wanted that. To have something that wasn't quite so personal there for him... the notion seemed far out of the realm of possibility. 

And, whenever Augustus was there Ford was awake. Whenever Augustus was there Ford was safe from Bill. Maybe that was what Ford wanted... 

So selfish.

* * *

It was the longest Augustus had been away, at least as far as Mabel was concerned, and Stan was quite used to his niece's over exaggeration. Because of that he felt that there was no need to worry. 

Dipper mentioned that he was an outside cat, and that Augustus liked to spend long amounts of time away from the house, and that he was barely even considered a 'pet' by Dipper's standards, so he should be fine. 

When the second week started to roll around Stan couldn't not notice it anymore 

For one thing Ford had noticed, and had even made an offhanded remark about it. Concidering how little Ford spoke to Stan (what with his always being out with the kids and stuff) him mentioning that to him instead of the crazy adventures he must have been on must mean something. It was strange how much a little tabby cat can affect a life even after so little time spent together. 

So Stan spoke to everyone about him. He got a picture of Augustus from Mabel and started to post them around town. Pretty soon all of Gravity Falls knew that the Pines were missing a pet. 

He got told a lot that people were sorry for them. Mabel and her friends went out on a search party for the cat. Dipper even joined in on day 3. And Ford... 

Ford was no where to be found as well. 

Stan suspected that he'd gone out with the kids, but when Mabel, Dipper, Candy, Grenda, and Wendy all showed up on a Tuesday night lacking Augustus and Ford... he knew that something was up. 

Ford wasn't in his room. He wasn't around the Shack. He was... just... gone. Mabel suspected that he was out looking for Augustus and that was the closest they'd come to finding out the truth. 

For now.

* * *

_This is the first time you've left the house in what? Weeks? Months? I'd say years but that's literally impossible!_

Ford's eyes scanned the dense underbrush. The only thoughts he had besides 'Save Mabel's pet. Save Mabel's pet.' being Truth. He was looking for Augustus. Why? Well, for no other reason than the fact that he was gone made the Light of his Life sad. 

And when Mabel was sad... that meant that Ford had utterly failed as a human. 

_Haven't you already done that Sixer?_

No. No. Ford just had to find Augustus. Keep Mabel happy, keep Dipper happy, stay out of Stan's hair, keep up the act for the summer... for the winter back out on the high seas... the next summer... and the summer after that...

He'd be doing this for years. 

_You're gonna burn out._

_Your family's not gonna want you around that long._

_Why not sooner?_

Because Dipper and Mabel still needed him. _Do they Sixer?_ Because he needed to pay for more of his sins while he had the chance. _Ha! As if you could put a dent in them!_ Because... Because... Because Mabel would be so sad. She'd be devastated. She was too attached to him. Just like she was attached to Augustus. If he left now she wouldn't be able to handle that. 

_Yeah, go ahead. Make up silly stories to keep yourself on this planet Sixer. Ya know, I think you're just being selfish. I mean, who would want_ you!? _You're damaged goods! The runt! The apple that rots the barrel. You're the worst of the bad ones._

There was a redness on the tree trunks. 

_I mean think about it. You let Bill take control of your body thirty years ago. Therefore you consented to whatever he did to you. And when you didn't like it you selfishly tried to steal his own property away from him! And then just last year you did it again!_

_You belonged to Bill. And you tried to steal yourself back._

_When you stole your inside back he was basically forced to do what he did to the outside._

_And... You must admit it was quite... thrilling. Right? Can I get a yes up in this nerdy brain of ours!?_

There was definitely more red. More blood. It was going further into the forest. Out of the gnome domain and into the more wilder parts that Ford had documented back in Journal 1. When things were simpler. When Ford still had a scrap of humanity to cling to. 

The blood lead him into the bushes, and Ford felt his heart start to race. 

Please may this not be what he was thinking. Oh please, if Augustus was hurt... or dead... or... Mabel would never forgive him. This was all his fault. His light was going to lose her beloved pet. 

Mabel would be sad. 

When Mabel was sad the universe was sad. 

He shakily moved forward, pushing the brush aside to catch a look at the place where the blood led. And in an instant his heart seemed to freeze. 

Blood. 

There was so much blood. 

_Blood, blood, and more blood. Bill could probably paint the entirety of the Fearamid with the blood he'd extracted from Stanford. So much of it had been replaced inside of Ford that he couldn't feel right anymore. Everytime he thought he'd die of bloodloss he didn't. There was always more. Whenever he was sure he was dead Bill would bring him back. The feeling of his broken bones snapping back into place was the worst. Ford almost preferred the actual breaking over it. But always there was blood..._

Lying silently in the bushes was the body of a medium brown tabby cat, and Ford didn't have to think twice to know which one it was. 

Augustus.

* * *

Mabel looked out the window. It had been two days since she or anyone else had last seen Ford, and she was worrying about him as much as Augustus. 

You'd be stupid if you didn't think Mabel hadn't been noticing. 

Ford was growing more and more attached to them. But it was a different attachment from the one from last summer. This attachment was nearly handsfree. He seemed to never leave the Shack (something that almost made sense, but didn't because he'd done it plenty the last year), and was always ready to sit in silence with Dipper or Mabel. She knew that there was something up, but figured that Stan must know or something, and if it was something she should worry about he'd tell her. 

She was musing all these things before she saw a strange man-shaped thing come into the dimming view. The sun was setting behind the man's back and he was carrying something in his arms. Mabel let out a shout as she recognized the silhouette of Ford coming from the tree line and dashed towards the door. 

Running out to meet him she wanted to throw her arms around him but stopped dead in his tracks. 

He was partially covered in blood. 

And in his arms he held a small bundle. 

"Augustus!" she cried, dashing forwards. Ford's eyes met her's for a moment, then he knelt down and dropped his load down to the ground, like he couldn't stand to touch it anymore. Augustus was breathing... barely, and Mabel wanted nothing more than to pick him up and cradle him in her arms. "Grunkle Ford... What happened?" Ford simply shook his head, suddenly not being able to make eye contact with her. 

This was bad. 


	13. Chapter 13

Stan watched his niece and brother watch the dying little creature. 

Ford's reaction to Augustus' injury was a very peculiar one. Normally when something was hurt Ford would do his best to help it but if it was obvious it was useless he'd console the person who was losing the pet or person. But now it seemed like if Augustus died then Ford would too. The man had barely left the cat's side along with Mabel. 

Ford was looking worse for ware, but that wasn't what was really troubling Stan. It was the look in his eyes. A look that made it seem like if the furry thing died Ford would too. Stan felt pity for the poor creature, and he felt pity for Ford, Mabel, and Dipper. The three of their's relationship must have grown stronger that summer, and judging how Ford reacted he must have known how much the cat meant to the two of them. 

Stan felt almost left out. 

There was a certain extent that his apethy went. He didn't _want_ to be apathetic to their plight, and he certainly felt at least a little sad, but for him it didn't really matter if there was one less cat in the world. Mabel and Dipper hadn't really shown any real connection to the cat, but judging his brother's reaction Stan must be wrong. 

Or maybe Ford had gone crazy again. 

But that was impossible. Ford was fine, he was just sad that Dipper and Mabel were losing a pet. 

They'd be fine.

* * *

Ford stared at the brown matted fur of Augustus lying in the padded basket on the table. Mabel was holding his hand and leaning her head against his shoulder. This was too much. No. Mabel was sad. That wasn't good. Ford didn't like it when she was sad. 

_What are you doing Sixer? Crying over a tiny cat? We've killed creatures more adorable than this!_

But it was Mabel's cat. It was Dipper's cat. They shouldn't be dealing with death this young! No. Ford... Ford didn't know what to do. Augustus didn't deserve this. If anything in this house deserved to die it was Ford! Not the innocent cat! 

_Ha! That's right! You're still alive while this cat isn't! Well, it's still alive, but not for long! You're gonna watch this creatures last seconds of misery!_

Ford's hand closed tightly around Mabel's, who looked up at him with sad eyes. "Grunkle Ford?" she asked in a low voice, "Is- I know that- That it's dumb..." No. Nothing Mabel did was dumb. "But... Can I sleep with you tonight?" Ford blinked at her. Sleep? With him? The last time someone had slept with him was... 

_Burning. Burning and burning. His skin was charred and chapped. HIs lips were trapped in a web of stone and cosmic sand. His hands were trapped behind his back, his legs chained. His brain was screaming for this to stop but no sound could get past BIll's lips._

"Of course," he said, not really feeling like that was the case. Mabel smiled, then dropped it as she turned to look back at Augustus. "He's such a strong little guy. He's gonna be okay Grunkle Ford... Right?" Ford felt his throat constrict, then he said, "Whatever happens he'll be better." There. Not a complete lie. 

_"Are you lying to me Fordsie? What does that make you deserve?" A shock of electricity jolted down his body, then coursed to an end. He felt a hand grab at his lower back and he knew what was about to happen. It happened to much. He locked his body in place, trying to at least dull what was going to happen to him._

Mabel seemed to notice his body going tense and rubbed her head against his arm. "Yeah, you're right Grunkle Ford... We're gonna be okay..." She sniffed a bit, then said, "He'll be okay..."

* * *

That night Ford found himself lying in his bed with his young niece tucked under his arm. If this had been last year he would have relaxed and let himself drift off into a foggy sleep. 

But it was this year. The beginning of the last years of his life. And all he found himself doing was tensing. 

If he fell asleep he'd inevitably be greeted by a memory of Bill. And he'd inevitably wake Mabel up with a physical response she should never have to endure. So he'd lay here until she woke up and think about... whatever his mind could think of to keep himself awake. He looked down at her hair, and a small part of him wanted to stroke it. 

_A dark hand stroked his head. He felt like throwing up. There was something... Something somewhere. He could feel it. It was otherworldly, terrible, and the worst thing that had ever made contact with him. He wanted to scream, but it seemed like his breath was all gone._

His hand stayed, he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things Ford. This was the time to be Grunkle Ford. Sure Mabel was unconscious but that meant that she was vulnerable. She was trusting Ford with her safety. 

He glanced over at his alarm clock, which read 11:04, and sighed. Mabel typically woke up around seven so that meant Ford still had at least eight hours to go. Eight hours of lying awake with a small child in his arms. It was going to be fine. He'd be fine. 

He closed his eyes again, fitting Mabel's head under his chin. Mabel sighed and leaned closer to him, her little hand gasping his right hand. Ford silently wondered if she'd still do that if she knew what that hand had done. His fingers closed around hers and he relaxed them slightly. Mabel was smiling, her dream obviously pleasant. Ford's tongue sneaked out and licked his chapped lips, breathing in deeply and slid his eyes shut. 

_He was aware. Horribly aware. He was awake as well. Terribly awake. He had never felt like he was feeling now. Every touch was electrical, every breath feeling like a million gallons of oxygen were getting shoved down his throat. Every cut felt like he was pierced right down to his core. His lips were pressed against that familiar surface, fingers were tiptoeing down his sides, making his skin come alive. He felt overwhelmed. He was scared... Scared... Oh so terrified. This was his fate. This was his punishment._

Mabel's hand was limp in his, but his fingers became the opposite. He opened his eyes, but the sensations didn't leave. It was everywhere. No. Nonononononononono... Not now. Not with Mabel right here. He was horrible. Why was he going back to those memories now? Why would he even attempt to punish himself, and when Mabel was depending on him to be trustworthy?

Trust no one. 

_Oh Sixer. Did you ever think you could be trustworthy? You're going to be taking away this pure creature's great uncle. You might as well take her life away as well. It would be so simple too. You could slit her throat right now, she wouldn't even feel a thing. You'd all be dead together. All together in the afterlife._

_Then again, you don't deserve her presence. As you've pointed out you don't deserve the trust she's placing in you right now. If she knew those thoughts you're having right now she might scream. No. She'll definitely scream. You've heard it before._

He blinked his eyes open again and breathed heavily. Had he just considered killing Mabel? Had he just been so selfish to think that he could take his Light into the next life with him? No. He would never kill another living thing again. No. He would be the next and last thing. No more casualties. He had killed enough in the Multiverse. He would be the last one, and no one else would come before him. 

There were tears gathering in his eyes, he squeezed Mabel closer to himself. He could never hurt his Bright Spot.

* * *

 _Ford was lying in bed, there was a circle of sharp pain around the back of his head, but that was to be expected. He_ had _just had brain surgery. But it was going to be fine. He was in Dimension 52. When he was there there was absolutely nothing that could hurt him there._

_He wanted to ger out of bed, but Jheselbraum's scolding earlier when he had done the same action rang through his mind. She wasn't mad, just disappointed that an adult like Ford didn't know when to listen to instructions. If he got out of bed he would risk fainting and injuring his already delicate head. He felt completely vulnerable, without being able to check on his surroundings, yet he knew that Jheselbraum would keep him safe._

_As if on cue Jheselbraum opened the door, not knocking once again, like she always knew what time was perfect for Ford. She swept into the room and greeted him with her, "Hello Stanford." that he had grown so used to. Ford smiled at her, pleased that it didn't hurt as much as it had a week ago. "Hello Jheselbraum. Is there something troubling you?" There was a look of sadness and worry in the oracle's face and she rested seven heavy eyes upon him._

_"Stanford, I am afraid that... That I can no longer keep you safe. The Axolotl, the being that protects the multiverse, has fallen." Ford's eyes widened. "No. That's impossible. But... What?" Jheselbraum nodded, resting a hand on Ford's right one and giving in a light squeeze. "Cipher and his minions will be here momentarily. Oh Stanford, it was not supposed to be this way."_

_Ford stared dully at her, her multicolored eyes accumulating tears. She bowed her head and said, "What Cipher desires is something beyond even my comprehension. I feel his anger... and lust... for you. I will do what I can, but I cannot protect you for much longer." Ford couldn't think. His headache roared into full life and he almost let out a pained groan. Jheselbraum took his hand in both of hers and said, "Stanford, I'm afraid your presence here is what has allowed this to happen. If it were not for you the Axolotl could have fought longer."_

_Truth. Jheselbraum was a being who exuded truth. Ford squeezed his eyes shut. "So." he said from behind gritted teeth. "What you are saying is that this is my payback." He didn't know how he knew but he could tell that Jheselbraum nodded. His eyes opened, and he said in a low voice, "Thank you for your help."_

_The look Jheselbraum gave him was one of pure despair._

_The next thing Ford felt was a sharp jolt to his head. He let out a cry of pure pain and crumpled to the ground. He heard a chuckle from above him, and looked up to see Bill floating down towards him. The triangle grew in size, something he was now prone to do compared to when he and Ford had been 'friends', and picked Ford up. The back of Ford's head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and he let out a groan._

_"Fordsie, jumping further into the session? Honestly, I didn't think that you'd be the type." Bill's voice was chipper and way too happy for the situation at hand. Ford found that if he opened his eyes the pain was amped up by a million, so he kept his eyes shut tight. He was rearranged in Bill's hand, and the demon poked a finger to Ford's temple, causing him to let out a sharp shout. "Man, that thing's gonna be annoying, isn't it? Well, if I can't be inside of you that way I'll have to try another!"_

_If Ford thought he'd been in pain before it was nothing compared to what he felt next. Every cell in his body exploded in pain, Bill's laugh crescendoing. "This will be fun... Right Sixer?"_

_Ford's response was only a scream._

* * *

Mabel woke up to Ford getting up from under her. Rubbing tired eyes she propped herself up on one elbow and watched him walk to the doorframe, leaning against it with one arm under his head and breathing deeply. Mabel nestled down, a burning question in her mind. Was her Grunkle okay? Did he have another nightmare? Did he need a hug? She blinked at him as he turned around, an unreadable expression on his face. 

"Good, she's still asleep." Ford whispered to himself and Mabel knew that she couldn't let him know that that wasn't the truth. She watched him grab a chair from by his desk and slump down into it. Last year he would have turned to the desk and flipped open a book, but Mabel could see in the dim light that there was no book on the desk, and Ford was still facing her. 

Mabel had a sinking feeling in her chest. How many things would Ford have done the last year that he hadn't done since he'd come back to the Shack? She could barely remember the last time he'd read a book, which had been when she'd teased Dipper about liking Pacifica, but that had been a month ago. He hadn't been out of the house as far as she knew except to bring Augustus' body back. He hadn't been documenting any fascinating creatures since he'd been on the Stan O' War. He was acting... like someone was pretending to be Grunkle Ford, and wasn't doing a good job. 

Was there something wrong.

* * *

She's asleep. I didn't wake her up. She doesn't know. 

Ford stared at his sleeping niece, feeling his breathing slow down. The back of his head was aching, and he wondered if a storm was going to be coming through. Mabel looked so peaceful, her eyes shut, her breathing steady. Ford rubbed the bridge of his nose, then grabbed his glasses from off of the desk. Now that he had escaped Mabel's grasp he felt like he could actually relax. 

His nightmare crept back up on him. Thank the Axolotl that, well, the Axolotl hadn't really died. The very notion that his favorite dimension could... well... be overrun by his least favorite person was... well... it was terrifying. The idea that he wasn't even safe in dimension 52... he didn't want to believe it. 

His fingers snaked up to his hairline and ran over the slight bump where his metal plate was. It had been the first quiet he'd had in over ten years, a chance to finally relax without the threat of Bill crawling up on him. But now it meant that he could never take the memories he so longed to forget and throw them away. He would remember everything. 

If only he could forget. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... We're getting closer to the end. I don't know how many more chapters I'm going to add to this (at least three or four). I'm already planning a sequel. Probably just a oneshot or something. Let me know what you'd like to see before the inevitable, or after it. 
> 
> Something drastic is going to happen in a later chapter. And no one is going to like it.

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been reading a lot of BillFord stuff (like the trash I am...) and the one thing that kept nagging at me was what Ford's family's reaction would be to all of that. I absolutely refuse to write smut. Never. Not in a million years. But I can do emotional trauma! And Ford... Uh... He's had some of that! Luckily he's got his family. If he ever tells them!


End file.
